


I Married An Ax Murderer

by GroovynSpoiled (UltimateWriterCharlie)



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: (and it isnt shown), (not by any main characters or people in queen), Accomplice Brian May, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Attempted Murder, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, But for good!, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Child Murder, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Funny, Gay, Gay Characters, Happy, Happy Ending, Happy Story I Promise, Horror, Horror Comedy, I promise this is a funny story the tags just make it sound bad, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Murder, Murderers, Psychological Horror, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Serial Killer Freddie Mercury, Serial Killer John Deacon, Serial Killer Roger Taylor, Serial Killers, Social Justice Murder!, They kill for good reasons!, soft fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26887117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateWriterCharlie/pseuds/GroovynSpoiled
Summary: Brian has had suspicions that his husband, Roger, has been cheating on him. He just didn't know that not only was his husband not cheating on him but in reality, a serial killer.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor
Comments: 27
Kudos: 58





	1. Chicken Noodle Soup

**Author's Note:**

> hi so ive legit been working on this for about a year now. i just didnt want to begin it because i didnt know how to end it but my boyfriend helped me a few months back so :) ive decided to go ahead and publish chapter one of this!!! trigger warning for MASSIVE GORE AND HORROR THEMES. this IS a horror comedy story so its going to be upbeat and funny but it also has very extreme gore and themes of murder, mentioned pedophilia (not shown, but mentioned in passing), and other things that ill be tagging either now or later. not too bad though. just mostly murder LOL.

Okay, Brian could be presumptuous on occasion but this time he was certain about his suspicions. He really was.

At first, it sounded ridiculous. Roger loved him, and they had been married for over three years now; together for six if you counted the months he spent ogling over Roger before having the guts to tell him about his feelings. There was no reasonable way he was right! Except...He _was_. He knew it.

He just needed proof.

Roger was cheating on him. There was no other explanation. No possible way to explain his behaviour.

Roger was cheating on him.

Cheating, adultery, affair. No matter how he worded it, he couldn't find a softer way to put it into words. 

Now, however, looking back on these thoughts he had been having put his head into a spin. He wished he could go back in time to slap his past self senseless. Past self meaning himself from yesterday morning when he began to work his plan.

Let's rewind.

Brians suspicion of his husbands' fidelity had begun to rise four months before now, taking him to December of 2019. It was nearing Christmas day and Roger had been using the excuse of late work nights every night for the past month.

At first, it was okay. He worked in an art studio with long and unusual hours, especially when he was working on a project. But soon, Brian had begun to think perhaps he was spending so many late-nights at the art studio he worked at doing more than cleaning his paintbrushes and scraping clay off of his shirts.

It troubled him, but he hadn't quite lost his head over it yet. At least, he didn't think. Actually, now that he was re-thinking how the night previous to now had gone, he was pretty sure he had. And the rest of them too. 

Anyway.

The behaviour only continued to grow more sceptical when Roger became nearly obsessed with a specific student who he claimed was ' _frustrating_ ' and ' _exhausting_ '. 

Though the attention seemed to be negative, Brian suspected it was to throw him off of the trail of his adulterous affair.

Roger would spend almost every day with the specific student but he had never caught his name. Brian had asked once, but the name he got in response had changed two times now. First, it was Daniel. Next, Chris. The third was a shrug. 

The unnamed student was older than the two of them but honestly, Brian didn't think it was too far fetched to think that Roger would draw any lines when it came to the affair. He could be sleeping with anyone, and it wouldn't make a difference.

His fears only grew stronger as the weeks went on. 

Brian respected his husbands' privacy more than anything, and so when Roger and he first moved into their forever-home and Roger specified that Brian was to never go into the basement, he respected his wishes.

' _It's my art studio_ ,' Roger had told him. _'I don't want you messing my stuff up. And I don't need your nosey ass looking at any paintings meant for you before they're ready_ '

And that would explain why exactly there was a lock on the very top and bottom of the door. Brian hadn't thought anything of it at first but now he grew worried that Roger had a secret sex dungeon or something odd such as that he didn't want his husband to see.

Brian would be okay if that's what it was. Well, not really. But he just wished Roger would tell him if he had lost feelings for him. He'd been told multiple times by his therapist and parents that Roger wasn't cheating on him, and if he was, that talking to him would solve their problems.

And, yeah, it probably would. But what if he lied? Roger lying to his face any more...He couldn't take it. 

That was probably better than what he was doing the night before.

_Now_ , he was actually crazy. He was sure of it.

At 11:43 in the afternoon, Brian stuck a tracking device underneath Roger's front left tire hood that he'd purchased for twenty pounds on Amazon.

It was marvellous how easy it was to buy something to use to possibly stalk another person. Two days shipping too, and that was quite the deal for any spooky stalkers out there who are tight on cash and time. 

If everything went smoothly, he would leave a review that went something like; " _I used this to catch my husband cheating on me. He was. Arrived early. Five stars, yes I would recommend to my friends."_

Now, at nearly one AM, Brian was impatiently waiting for his husband to come out of the art academy he was currently having a 'long night' at. Either he was going to come out with the boyfriend he was resizing the holes of, or he was going to come out alone and make Brian look very stupid.

Brian was also bounced up on a sugar rush from all of the coffee pumped full of cream he had drunk in anticipation of his late night. Not to mention the fistfuls of candy he'd been throwing back to soothe his nervousness. So, the tension stored inside of his body right now was buzzing and it did nothing to cure his anxiety.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't just wait outside waiting for heart-break. Brian put his hands to his keys, but just as he did, Roger stepped outside of the academy.

And he was alone.

Brian sighed in relief and slapped his palm across his forehead with a laugh. God, he had lost his mind. Roger would never cheat on him, he loved-

Except his best friend came out just behind him.

Freddie followed behind him wearing what looked like an apron and a black turtle neck. He looked like a stereotypical artist. Or, he thought humorously, a Steve Jobs cosplayer. Brian was fully aware that Freddie enjoyed painting just as much as his husband did, but Roger never told him that he would be stopping by his job so late at night.

Nor did he mention the fact that Freddie was apparently going home with Roger based on the fact that Freddie joined him in the car.

He had failed to notice the license plate had been removed.

Brian hesitantly opened the app that connected to the tracking device.

He felt weird following his best friend and husband just a few handfuls of feet away from their car. He'd never followed someone via car, how was he going to do this? All he knew was that he needed to keep his distance so that they wouldn't see him. 

" _Roger_ ," He whispered to himself. "I know you're cheating on me...I know you're cheating on _me_ ," He practised tone and pitch for when he sees his husband in the flesh.

The only thing he needed right now was something to get himself in the right mood that wasn’t complete worry and over-excitement from a caffeine high.

The radio began blasting the pop station and he sat back in his seat. Brian hadn't realized how sweaty and cold he was at the same time until he tightened his grip on the leather steering wheel and the sweat accumulated between his fingers made a more than revolting sound.

And, oh God! The panic was setting in again! He really loved Roger, so much it hurt. It hurt, even more, to even think he may be cheating on him. With Freddie no less. But, okay, he breathed out and shook his head.

Roger wasn't fucking his best friend. He couldn't be. He wouldn't.

The pop station blared and the car ahead of him turned onto a dirt road. He knew this neighbourhood, it was abandoned from before he'd become a teenager. Now he was truly confused.

Roger was weird, though. He could rationalize this. Maybe he was collecting pieces from abandoned houses for his sculptors. Yeah, there was a serious lack of loose wood that wasn't brand new around their own house due to the lack of genuinely abandoned housing. That had to be it.

Brian parked down the road from the entrance where he saw his husbands car park. He watched with anticipation like his presence was already known as the two of the people he was almost stalking got out of the car and wiggled into a hole in the gate fence.

He gave them enough time to be unable to hear him before he followed suit and made his way up the street and through the opened gate. The keep out sign made him feel even more watched. If the police were to come, and he knew he was only being paranoid, maybe if he cried enough about what he was doing they would pity him and he would be let off with a warning about sneaking into abandoned areas.

But he knew, he _knew_ that he was being paranoid. No police were going to bust him for this. His husband and Freddie didn't know they were being followed. It was going to be okay. And this would be a funny memory down the line.

Roger and Freddie's cell phone lights shined far ahead of him and involuntarily helped the man following close behind them keep track of the two.

The nervousness subsided into cold calmness. They looked like they were laughing and joking around, not preparing for a night of sex and steamy pillow fights. Maybe he was being insane like he'd thought only briefly. But, still. Something seemed so strangely off.

Roger and Freddie both turned into the gravel walkway of a home that was quite covered in moss and overgrown trees. The home looked as if it hadn't seen the light of day in decades, nevermind someone inside of the structure. A decent gust of wind could blow it down to the roots.

The two men travelled to the side of the structure and Freddie held a cellar door open that creaked quite loudly before stepping inside just behind the blonde. A light turned on from the inside, the lighting showing through the cracks of the elderly cellar door that somehow looked newer than everything surrounding it.

Brian felt his heart begin racing once they were out of his sight. This was the moment. This was either the time he was going to need to break off a six-year relationship or have his husband call him crazy for going to the lengths he was going to.

"Roger," He began quietly in his own practice run of what he had been planning to say. "I know you're cheating on me...I know you're cheating on me..."

He walked ahead and stood outside of the cellar door. It was most definitely new, the wood itself. The hinges connecting the wooden panels to the rest of the entryway, however, were very old and rusted. A new looking lock with a physical code system hung unlocked on the handle mocked him.

Brian pushed the door open as quickly as he could to force himself to expose the fact that he was coming down to interrupt the possible sex party his best friends may be having in the basement.

What he found to be odd was the panel of shower curtains sewn together poorly with red thread covering the entryway of the basement just beyond the wooden doors themselves.

"What the fuck is that?" Someone who sounded too much like Roger whispered in a panicked tone from beyond the curtains.

Brian suddenly had a burst of emotion and he forced himself to go down the stairs, all the while shouting; "Roger, I know you've been cheating on me, and I'm not crazy!-"

Moving the shower curtain was a mistake. Hindsight is 20/20.

The first thing he saw was a bucket. A bucket wasn't unusual, however, the contents inside were enough to make his stomach turn. A human arm, still dripping in blood, hung out of the container. 

He looked to the walls, and they had shelves full of weapons and human organs in jars of formaldehyde. The floor was pooled with blood but a drain installed in the middle of the room was slowly emptying the plasma to be disposed of somewhere unknown.

"What is happening?" Brian had little to no oxygen inside of him now. "Roger-"

He was actually grateful when he abruptly collapsed to the ground and felt the consciousness slip out of him similarly to the blood draining into the floor just feet from his body.

But, man, he wished that he'd at least backed up a few feet before his consciousness fully left him because his hand plunged into the pile of oozing blood. He winced almost comically before finally falling into a fitful and nonconsensual sleep.


	2. Bella In The Witching Elm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy Halloween mothers and fuckers. i might do a double chapter update! one now and maybe one later? im going to a rocky horror picture show ball where they do costume contests and stuff and the movie with shit its gonna be fun :) tell me about ur halloween plans in the comments!!

"Are you kidding me?" Roger gasped in a half-yell. "You're kidding me! Are you blind or stupid?!"

"I may have acted on impulse."

"You may have?! You just knocked my husband out! He's gonna have a headache all week now and you know who has to hear about that? Me! Not you, John!"

John hummed as he crouched down to the ground to push Brian's hair back to check if he was okay. His eyes were rolled back and he was making small sounds so he was basically in perfect health.

"He's fine."

Both Roger and Freddie exchanged glances at one another. 

John squinted and rolled his eyes. "Stop being weird, he's alive isn't he?"

Oh. Right. He is alive. That's sort of the issue. He was alive, and the body behind them covered in tarp and missing more than a few of its limbs was not. And, given his reaction, he had probably seen it.

"No offence but are we going to have to kill Brian?" Freddie whispered as if to not allow anyone to hear his questions. They did, and they both looked at him with a similar level of worry. "I mean...What if he wakes up and runs?"

"I'll move him upstairs."

"He's going to put the pieces together very fast when he wakes up in an abandoned house. How the fuck did he even know where we were?" Roger sat back and slapped a hand over his forehead. "God, I'd rather die than kill Brian. I don't want him to be a wall mantle."

"A wall mantle?" John asked with a concerned wince.

"Like a gimp. I think that's what a gimp is. You know, the limbless thing you use for sex. But, at least gimps are alive!" He slung his arm over his face and dramatically set his head on an empty metal table with a loud thud.

His friends stared at him but Freddie came forward to comfort him with a hand over his head.

"Brian's not gonna become your...Gimp. He's going to understand. And, if he doesn't, we can kill him."

Roger's eyes practically boggled out of his head. He jerked his head to Freddie and gave him a frustrated scoff. "That is not a possibility."

John was reclining against one of the concrete walls that crinkled as he became comfortable, the shower curtain drilled into the wall curling behind his shoulders. "What other option is there? He's going to wake up soon and knowing him, he isn't going to understand or even try to understand what's happening. Gimp, or death."

"Gimp or death," Roger repeated absently. "Actually, fuck that whole idea, let's drag him outside and pretend like he slipped and fell in the pool."

"Yes," Freddie rolled his eyes. "The pool that's full of mould. Let's drop our best friend, your husband, into a pool full of mould so he can wake up and then suffocate just to die. In a pool. Full of mould."

They were losing time. Brian had begun to move slightly and it only stole their attention from the topic at hand when he slowly sat up and squinted intensely to get the faded grogginess out of his mind.

"Well, we sure did figure something out in time for him to wake up," John grumbled as he sat up from the floor to go to his side.

Roger attempted to be discreet when he pushed a bucket that may or may not contain a human hand with the wedding band still attached from view.

In a beat of silence, Brian suddenly froze in place. His eyes were over his hands and the blood that he had inadvertently dipped his hand into was now smeared on his forehead. All three of them watched with bated breath as he lowered his hands in front of his face.

Shockingly, Brian stood up and quietly walked to the stairs.

"Bri- My love?" Roger jogged up to his husband and put his hand onto his shoulder. "Where you going, buddy?"

"I'm going home."

"Yeah, that sounds good. But, um, let's talk for a second maybe."

Brian turned around and Roger found himself deeply disturbed by the emptiness behind his eyes. He also felt fear because, for the first time, he realized that Brian was taller and stronger than him. And Brian had a very tight grip on his upper arm.

"Are you cheating on me?"

Roger blinked. He had heard somewhat of what Brian had said when he ploughed down the stairs, but his shock deafened him. "No, I would never do that to you."

"But you kill people?"

"Well, yes-"

"And...You were just talking about killing me?"

Roger turned around for a brief moment and gave a deeply frustrated glare to his friends. "Yes, but we would never-"

The first biggest shock of the night was having Brian storm down into their murder basement. The second was how abrupt it felt when his head was slammed against the wall and a cleaver was at his throat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Roger yelled as Brian leaned closer to him. "Are you insane?!"

"Are you!?" Brian yelled back.

Roger had never been genuinely afraid of anyone until right about then when he was pretty sure he was about to actually pee himself. Not even the cleaver against his throat, no, just Brian yelling at him. 

"Brian, you need to calm down," John began. The two of them had begun slowly walking towards him, but he hadn't quite noticed the fact that one of them had a syringe. "You're going to hurt Roger."

Brian choked out a laugh that sounded painful. "Do you see where we are? Do you see what's in that- that fucking bucket?"

Aw man, Roger thought. He saw the bucket. Damn.

"Yes, but you're going to hurt Roger and we're going to have to hurt you if that happens."

Brian suddenly let go of Roger and the cleaver rattled to the ground. At first, they thought that he had dropped the weapon, but instead, he grabbed for another one. A much, much bigger axe that he held in front of himself.

John took to Roger's side and slid the syringe into his back pocket. 

"You need to chill the fuck out, dude. You're taking all of this out of context," Roger almost sounded bored when not ten seconds ago he was almost having his throat cut open by his own husband.

"Don't fucking talk to me, I came here because I thought he was cheating on me and now everyone I know and love is a fucking serial killer! I just wanted to know that my own bloody husband loved me and wasn't having sex with you!" He rapidly pointed to Freddie and then Roger, over and over.

They all stared at him like he was a caged animal and from the way he was acting, he was definitely similar to one.

"Listen," Roger smiled. "Technically Freddie and I are the only ones who are serial killers-"

John slapped him across the head with a loud thud. 

"Sorry. Not the point. What I'm saying is, we aren't doing what you think. It isn't evil."

"Oh," Brian laughed again. "Yeah, you're right, murder is fine!"

"Brian, where are you going to go?" Freddie asked quietly and gently. "When you leave, where will you go?"

Technically they wouldn't let him go. But, letting him think they were was important so he wouldn't land the axe he was waving in Roger's head.

The brunette didn't seem to know. "I want to go home."

"You can go home."

"No, you're going to kill me."

"We aren't even near you. Go home."

Brian stared at each of them suspiciously but began walking back up the stairs with the axe still in front of himself. Surprisingly to himself, they allowed him to exit.

Unfortunately, the one person who he didn't want to see followed.

"Roger, I don't want to hurt you," Brian whispered with the axe lowering. "But you're seriously freaking me out."

"I know, but you have got to trust me when I say you don't understand what's happening here."

"Yeah," Brian laughed. "No shit."

"If you come back down, we could explain everything."

Brian softened around the edges. "Are you going to hurt me?"

Roger frowned and used the opportunity to step forward. "No."

They approached one another and Brian allowed himself to be pushed into a hug. Well, Roger's arms were around him.

He couldn't say he was surprised when he felt a sharp poke in his neck.

"Please don't kill me while I'm awake," Brian whispered as he began to slump into Roger's arms. "I don't want it to hurt."

"I'm _not_ going to kill you, love. I just need you to relax. When you wake up, you'll be at home and it'll all be okay."

"Okay," Brian closed his eyes and the butt of the axe slipped out of his fingertips. "I love you. M' really glad you're not...Cheating on..."

His entire weight toppled into Roger and he found himself stumbling to keep him from completely tipping over.

"I love you too, bud," Roger sighed with a huff. "But fuck you for thinking I'd ever cheat on you. That ass is too nice to forget." 

And just before the other two came up to help Roger take Brian home, he stared down at his sleeping body with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment, kudos, and happy halloween!!


	3. Healthy Harvest™: Organically and Non-cruelty sourced meat you can feel good about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian is let in on the secrets of the company and community called Healthy Harvest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took forever i got depressed <3  
> i love the way ive changed this series since i first thought of it. it is completely different than how it began and i love it.  
> tw for cannibalism (accidental and on purpose), rape, pedophilia, and murder obviously

His head felt like it had been pounded in with a baseball bat.

Actually, that's exactly what had happened. Yikes.

Brian woke up with an incredible ache in the side of his head. It blinded him momentarily once he found the energy to open his eyes and sit out of bed. He jumped when something moved beside him but he saw Roger laying next to him per usual and his nerves calmed themselves. 

Oh. 

Roger.

The serial killer.

How nice, how comforting!

Brian suddenly shot out of bed and huddled into the wall for protection. His phone was missing, most likely to dissuade him from calling the police and turning them all in. He wasn't going to lie to himself and tell himself it was all a dream, not when he was still in the sleuth outfit consisting of all black clothing that he had worn the night previously.

Fuck, it had all really happened. His husband was a serial killer. His best friends too.

Wow. John hit him in the head with a baseball bat. Rude? He would be mad about that later, right now he had to figure out a way to leave the house without anyone knowing so he wouldn't end up with his limbs scattered across China, Australia, and Florida.

Seemed a little too late when Roger moved in the bed and sat up with far less panic than Brian had. The brunette quickly grabbed the lamp on the bedside night-stand and tugged it out of the wall which more than blew his cover.

"Brian, what are you doing? Going to beat my head in with a lamp, are you?"

Brian frowned. "Only if you try to kill me!"

Roger rolled his eyes. "I'm genuinely insulted that you would ever even think that I would hurt you."

He felt his heart throb at that. Roger was genuinely offended. But, maybe it was a trick. He held the lamp up higher as his husband stood up and walked towards him.

"You're a dick," Roger said with a deep sadness. "I've never and wouldn't ever hurt you, dick."

"You've hurt people before, I saw the basement-"

"You could hardly call them _people_."

The lamp Brian was holding was forcefully taken out of his hands and set back onto the table. He jumped when it was taken from him. "Because they're cut up? Yeah well-"

"If we were going to kill you, you would be dead."

Brian's eyes widened. "That's comforting."

"It should be."

"Well, it isn't."

Roger narrowed his eyes and stepped back to give his husband space. "Ask me questions. Ask me whatever you want to ask. Fuck, call the police if you want. But everything that's happening in your head right now is exactly what isn't happening."

"So," Brian looked down and avoided eye contact with Roger. "You're not a serial killer?"

"That question sucks, you saw the basement."

They both stared one another down but he gave up. 

"Okay, Rog, I'll ask you something. Why shouldn't I call the police?"

"Because if you do, I'll be in jail. And your friends."

That was already a good reason. "I need more."

"Well," Roger leaned back and sighed. "We don't just kill anyone. I don't think you'll love any answer I give you, but, that's the most basic answer."

Brian's mind was raging fiercely with every question, concern, and grumble it could think of. With it, he looked around the room and asked what he'd been wondering for quite some time; "What's in the basement?"

"You saw the-"

"No," Brian said sternly. "Our basement."

Roger's eyebrows furrowed together with frustration and he stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm shocked that you never went down there."

"I respect your privacy."

"Until you think I'm some sort of adulterer?"

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

Roger couldn't dispute with that. It was fair enough. 

He stood and tried for taking Brian's hand, but the brunette quickly stuck them in his pockets. That stung, but he did understand how afraid Brian had to be of him right now.

The basement was locked with multiple code-locked pins hanging from chunky metal blocks. After the second one, Brian took his shoulder and tightened his grip. 

"Wait," He whispered. "I don't want to see."

Roger put his own hand on top of the brunettes. "It's okay. It's not the same as the other one."

Brian allowed Roger to swing the dense wooden door open with a loud creak. The smell of something sweet emanated from the basement, and he found himself worried for whatever was down there.

The stairs were carpeted, as was the flooring from what he could see as they descended down the stairs. Soft whispering could be heard but he was unsure if it was music or real people.

Freddie and John revealed themselves, dressed in normal clothing you would expect them to be in, with worried expressions as they saw Brian just behind Roger.

"This is too much, Rog," Freddie whispered harshly. "He's gonna-"

"Shut up, Freddie."

And so he did. 

The first thing he thought when his feet met the carpeted stairs was _This isn't bad. It's just a gaming room. There's a TV, a couch, a mini-fridge-_

Oh, and a wall of photographs pinned to a wall-length corkboard. That was very serial-killer-y of them!

"This isn't what I expected honestly," Brian stepped carefully around the room. What if there was a limb laying around and he stepped on it? He would have to literally jump out a window if that happened. And, no, he wasn't being dramatic. "I mean...The cork-board wall is a little...Dramatic."

Freddie gestured to the wall as if it was an art piece. "This," He waved his hands. "Is our sex offender wall!"

"Please don't tell me you-"

"Oh god," Roger gasped. "We are not sex offenders. We just...Catch the ones who do that sort of thing."

"The police exist."

They each took turns groaning and whining. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

Brian was ushered to a sofa he remembered seeing in goodwill once. Roger sat in front of him, balancing on his thighs and feet to stay up. "Brian, I know you're scared, but I want you to hear me out about all of this. If you still want to call the police after, I'll understand."

Brian sighed. "Okay."

Roger, Freddie, and John smiled at one another and Brian couldn't help but feel butterflies at seeing his husbands sweet smile, even if it was for the millionth time.

"You ever see things on telly and you think, " _How could the police let this guy go? Knowing what he did to that little girl." ?_ "

Brian shrugged. Yes, he definitely had, but he had never thought of going out and impaling the criminals head on a stick.

"That's basically what we take care of. Not just us, there's more. We don't know their faces or where they are, but we know of one another. It's like a community. Like Reddit, but we don't use that kind of internet to communicate."

"So," Brian leaned ahead. "You're not the only ones who do this? You're working with others?"

"Basically. We communicate through our means and the ones who retrieve the specimen will auction them off. Not with money, more like...Actually, you're not gonna want to know."

Brian blinked. "No, I'm in this now. Tell me everything."

Organs. 

Organs were worth hundreds to thousands to millions depending on what they were and how they were when received. Status wise, if they were nice, you could get a substantial chunk of money for your hard work. Those who took the specimens will ask only for things off of the person's body in return. What they do with the parts, no one speaks of.

It was none of your business once you sent the parts requested to the seller, not even if you found a chunk of something familiar in your food at a restaurant. 

Sure, the seller could do it themselves but not everyone has the time or equipment needed. Plus, it would defeat the purpose of the network and some simply don't want to dirty their hands with the more messy side of the transaction.

Catchers, or sometimes known as Finders or Hounds, are what they called the men and women who track, find, and sell the specimen.

The specimen is a sort of code for those who are offenders. Rapists, paedophiles, murderers who were let go without fair trial despite obvious proof, etc. Those are the types of things you are sold in return for parts of the specimen.

Under the name Healthy Harvest Inc., the community is able to go under the radar both on the internet and in the real world. 

"Healthy Harvest?" Brian questioned with hesitation. "The company?"

"Yes," Freddie spoke up this time.

"But, they're a meat factory. Please don't tell me-"

Roger winced. "Well, it's a bit like a money-laundering scheme. Except, they aren't laundering money. Get it?"

"Roger, don't tell me they're manufacturing human meat."

Each other person in the room suddenly went a bit too quiet for his liking.

"Are you fucking serious? They're manufacturing human meat?!"

The blonde took Brian by the knees and smiled carefully. "But you don't eat meat! So, you know. It's okay! And I don't buy from them in _that_ way either so, technically, we're fine. And it’s not like that’s all they do! Just some of the time,” He dropped his voice into a whisper; “Most of the time they’re running their human organ trafficking ring.”

Freddie, across the room, sat in a baseball mitt chair, leaned ahead and gave a squint of suspicion. "That's not true, Roger-"

"Shut the fuck up, Freddie! Read a room!" Roger shouted at him. Silenced, Freddie laughed with a hand over his mouth as quietly as he could.

Brian was still stunned in disbelief. It was a bit like a cult. And he had passed by the Healthy Harvest building multiple times, never once wondering if they were producing human meat and carrying an entire community of serial killers just behind double doors.

He remembered a time he had met someone who claimed they worked there too. Had he shaken hands with someone who had sold another human being? Someone who had eaten human meat? Someone who killed people in a hidden basement? Oh, Jesus.

This was quite overwhelming. Brian felt a bit in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment, kudos, and subsribe so youll be emailed when this story updates <3


	4. ACAB

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger explains what exactly lead he and his friends to join the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii my boyfriend was here all december up until yesterday so i was busy uwu  
> trigger warning for mentions of rape and molestation (extremely light for the second one)

Growing up, Roger found it hard to turn his emotions off.

He would cry almost constantly and he was practically attached to his mother's side like his life depended on it. If he was separated, he would become a sniffling mess of tears and frustration.

He had met his father only twice. His mother made sure to keep him far away from her only child and most prized possession, but he didn't know why until he was much older.

When Roger was eighteen, he saw his father for the second time.

His father wasn't someone he had seen many times so when the older man told him he was his son, he was incredibly sceptical. He couldn't deny that he looked somewhat similar to himself but he couldn't be too careful.

"How's your mother?" His supposed father asked him. "I haven't heard from her in...Years."

Roger was still sceptical, but he told him about how she was doing fine, and that she lived in London now.

The man he'd just met knew far more than a true stranger would. Why would a stranger know his full name? His boyfriend's name? Roger couldn't be blamed for trusting in the older gentleman. He tried not to blame himself for accepting the invitation to the man's flat.

His attitude changed as soon as they entered the apartment.

Once the door was closed, the idea that perhaps the man wasn't telling him the full truth hit him like a two-ton stack of bricks. 

Roger's memory failed him past then. 

The last things he remembers was entering and exiting the apartment. When he entered, he was calm and almost excited to be with who he thought was his father. When he left, he was shaking and blood dripped from his hands. A knife clutched between both of his hands and his trousers halfway down his hips where the button and zipper were still done up.

When the police found him, he was sitting outside of the apartment with the knife still glued to his palms. He was handcuffed and placed in a police car before they learned the full story. He watched beyond sympathetic eyes as his would-be-rapist was rolled out of the home in a body bag. 

He really hadn’t meant to kill him. At least, he didn’t think. He really couldn’t remember what had happened. Really, all he remembered was wrestling the knife away from the pervert who was attempting to rip his jeans open. 

Then he came to outside of the apartment covered in blood. 

Roger was put into therapy not long after that. He apparently had a light form of PTSD but really he didn’t mind knowing he had killed someone so evil. Victims of the man came forward it long after his murder, and Roger felt an almost sick pride for finishing off the man who harmed so many people.

But that’s what people did when something horrible happens to you. They cottle and sympathize with you. His mum let him stay home from school more often to the point where he stopped going entirely. Not his idea, but he was only missing classes that didn’t matter to him or his future.

Roger didn't think of what had happened terribly often now. Well, he did sometimes when he would be alone or with his mother who looked at him differently ever since.

It wasn't like he was hurting people.

People didn't rape, molest, and hurt other people. When you do that, you're a new type of evil that shouldn't be allowed to roam the earth freely. 

The man who told him he was his father didn't deserve to roam free around the city picking up boys to trick into trusting him. The police took pity on him since he was mentally ill, even more when they discovered he had lost a child in the past. 

Their sympathy let him nearly traumatize Rogers body. What would have happened if he hadn't taken the knife that was being used to rip open his clothes? He would have been on the list of his victims, a victim that wouldn't get justice.

Now he could say that the victims of his crimes could rest easy at night knowing their attacker was dead. Six feet under. He couldn't hurt any of them again.

He wanted that feeling to universal to anyone who's killer or abuser walked free because of the polices arrogance and ignorance. 

Brian sat on the sofa with surprised disbelief. 

He had never once heard of what had happened to Roger as a teenager. Never once had he brought it up to him, not even hints. Not that he expected him to, it must have been traumatic.

Brian took Roger's hands in his own and brought them to his chest. 

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," He said quietly. "That's fucking...Awful."

"You wanted answers, this is the answer."

He still couldn't quite wrap his head around it. He understood hating evil in the world and helping the victims and the family's of the victims, but this seemed like an extreme measure. Still, he stayed silent.

"What- What about Freddie? And John? Did something happen to- Actually, that's a horrible question. Nevermind."

Freddie laughed and John gave him a glare.

"Well," Freddie began. "I was the first one Roger told. I saw right through him. And, well, to be honest, I fucking hate paedophiles. I hate them, I like cutting people open, I hate hurting innocent people. There you go."

Brian looked to John, his mouth hanging open.

"I clean," John stated simply.

"You...Clean?"

"I came into here one day, the lock was off, and I found blood on the ground. I cleaned it. Then I re-organized the wall. Roger came home, shit his pants, and now we do this."

Brian almost found humour in the explanation. So simple and yet so unusual. 

"So- So...You're not going to kill me?" Brian laughed as he looked around the room. There was a fucking pinball machine. He had imagined sex swings or, now, a kiddie pool full of dead hookers. 

"No! And, well, honestly, if this conversation went poorly we were going to blame everything on you," Freddie smiled as he spoke but none of the others followed suit. "Well, we were."

”No,” Roger ground out with his teeth connected. “We were not.”

The other two looked opposite directions and it did very little for Brian's comfort.

“Um, so... I guess I understand. But- But what about the police? Do I have to get involved with this? Do I have to help? Are you cheating on- Actually fuck that question we’ve moved past that.”

Roger blinked. “Okay, let me answer those as fast as you asked them for time's sake. Police? Terrible. No, no, and no. Does that answer everything?”

”Why are cops terrible?”

That was the wrong question to ask. All three of them exploded into separate tirades, all including the words ‘ _Fuck_ ’, ‘ _pigs_ ’, and ‘ _Motherfuckers_ ’.

“Okay,” Brian sighed after they all quieted down. “So, basically, cops are bad?”

”Yes.” They said simultaneously.

"And- And...We are good?"

Roger felt his cheeks warm with the way that Brian said _we._ He scooped up his husbands' hands once again and put them to his own face. "Yes! We're the good guys. Like ghostbusters."

He could understand now. A little, not entirely. He still didn't want to be involved past knowledge, but he wouldn't be going to the police and it wasn't going to make him fear the people he loved most for the rest of his life. At least now he had an idea of what was happening.

"Okay but I have one rule," Brian said confidently. "All of this stays in the murder dungeon. You can keep your psychopath, sex offender, whatever wall but I don't want to hear about what you all do for this company. It stays outside."

Altogether they said, "Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment, kudos, and subscribe to get an email when i update this story next <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please like, comment, and subscribe so you get a notification when the next chapter comes out <3


End file.
